Lately, I’ve been pausing in porticos, haunted by a particular line from a particular song. The ditty in question, “Boom Boom Pow,” was released by the redoubtable Black Eyed Peas more than a year ago, yet certain peculiarities of its lyrical cadences still manage to wash up upon the shores of my mind, as clear and startlingly whole as twisted lengths of beach glass.
For ten years or so, I have been making jokes about “The Big Chill,” completely undeterred by my lack of knowledge about the actual film. A small group of us sat in the living room and screened it, while behind us another small group played a raucous game of Texas Hold Them. In other words, it was a 4-D viewing experience.